Soul of the Sea Read online

  Soul of the Sea

  by

  Jasmine Denton

  World Castle Publishing

  http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  World Castle Publishing

  Pensacola, Florida

  Copyright © Jasmine Denton 2011

  ISBN: 978193708988

  Library of Congress Catalogue Number 2011935937

  First Edition World Castle Publishing August 15, 2011

  http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

  Licensing Notes

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  Cover Art: Karen Fuller

  Editor: Kate Richards

  Dedication

  This novel is dedicated to some very special people who made it possible.

  My mother, for always supporting my dream. Genna and Todd, for sharing my love of stories. My grandmother, for passing down the gift.

  I’d like to give a shout-out to some influential people who also helped encourage me to pursue writing. Mrs. Burnette, for nurturing a very raw talent and showing me the importance of editing. Ms. Casto, for always being there. Ms. J, for teaching me to think outside the box.

  Thank you.

  Death was in that poisonous wave,

  And in its gulf a fitting grave

  For him who thence could solace bring

  To his lone imagining—

  Whose solitary soul could make

  An Eden of that dim lake

  The Lake

  By Edgar Allan Poe

  Chapter 1

  Drowning

  Hauntingly familiar, the eerie but beautiful melody called to Mykaela. The song surrounded her, embracing her very soul from every direction. The deep methodic sounds chimed through the wind, echoing softly through the treetops above. It called to her with a deep and immense power she didn’t understand.

  Cold chills swept up her spine as she turned to her friend. “Can you hear that?”

  “Mykaela, please.” Wide-eyed and pale, Charity looked around the dark clearing in the woods. “I don’t hear anything. Let’s just go, okay?”

  “Give me a minute.” Mykaela removed her arm from Charity’s tight grip.

  No more than a few hours away from dawn, and the moon above illuminated the clearing where the two girls had decided to play their little game. They brought with them an Ouija Board and a few candles in a first time attempt to contact souls from beyond. Little did they realize what they had really opened up.

  Mykaela wandered over to the bluff. Many times before she feared the hundred-foot drop, but not this time. The enchanting melody drew her near, chasing away any fears she might harbor.

  She scanned the beautiful horizon, taking note of the racing waves crashing against an endless stretch of jagged cliffs, even though she couldn’t see them in the dim glow between night and dawn, she knew what the cliffs looked like. This was where she searched for the singer.

  The wind picked up, forceful and violent gusts claimed the ocean. Mykaela braced herself against the gale, as she watched with wide eyes while the ocean churned into an enormous waterspout.

  “Mykaela, you’re freaking me out!” Charity grabbed Mykaela’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

  Mykaela barely heard her. The whirlpool rose up from the ocean and swirled toward them, spinning like a tornado. Frozen in shock and disbelief, she watched the anomaly move closer to her.

  Impossible! This is freaking impossible!

  Charity gasped and clung tightly to Mykaela, both girls immobilized by the mysterious sight. The song rang loud above the violent whooshing sound. Taunting, teasing, and mocking, the melody continued to burrow itself into Mykaela’s ears. The water towered above them in a spinning cyclone. It broke apart and shaped itself into two giant hands. The long aquatic fingers reached toward them, ready to consume them in its watery grasp.

  Mykaela and Charity screamed and turned to run, but the water enveloped them like an avalanche. The huge wave clutched the girls, dragging them over the cliff and into the ocean with one powerful sweep.

  Mykaela’s arms and legs flailed, trying to bring her head above the surface as the current tossed her around. The harder she fought, the deeper she drifted into the water. Tiny air bubbles escaped her mouth, as her lungs burned for the breath of life that eluded her. Sharp pain pulsed through her head, as her vision doubled, ending in a blur as the struggles continued without promise or hope of survival. The ocean around her slowly faded in and out of focus. No longer could she fight the burning sensation in her lungs, she desperately needed to breathe. Involuntarily, she gasped for a breath, only to suck in a mouthful of saltwater.

  Panic stricken, and heart racing, she squinted through the dark water for Charity. Vaguely she saw her friend’s body jerk in ridged twists a few feet away. The tide’s force flung Charity’s body around, forcing Mykaela to look into her friend’s face. The once pretty and soft angles, now frozen in terror, etched themselves in a haunting memory that Mykaela would never forget. The pretty, pink lips remained unmoving as if in a scream. Charity stopped struggling against the water. Mykaela knew she must save her, but her limbs grew weaker by the second.

  Someone or something grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the shore. She writhed against the hold and stretched her hand out, reaching for Charity. She couldn’t just leave her here. She needed to get to her…save her.

  ***

  “Breathe.” From very far away, a voice, as smooth as a lullaby tinged with an Irish brogue, repeated, “Come on, love, breathe.”

  A weight pushed on her chest, pushing the water from her lungs. Her head turned to the side and spewed out a mouthful of salt water. The burning lungs welcomed the new air as she inhaled a deep breath.

  Sand matted into her hair and fused itself to her wet skin. The grimy feeling itched and burned, in spite of the cold air.

  Opening her eyes, she saw a man leaning over her. As her eyes focused on the figure, she saw a boy, really, not much older than herself. Wisps of shaggy, blond hair fell in damp ringlets around his face, framing blue green eyes. The color of his eyes reminded her of the ocean. Squinted down at her, his forehead creased with concern and worry. She’d never seen him before, but somehow he seemed familiar. The golden-pink embers of the sunrise cast an iridescent glow around him, and, for a fleeting second, she wondered if he was her guardian angel.

  “You’re okay,” he whispered, smoothing a hand over her hair. “Just take it easy.”

  “Where is…” The simple motion of turning her head left her exhausted. Still, she managed to look around at the desolate section of beach. Rays of sunlight poked through the clouds, reflecting off the mists, but they were alone.

  “Charity? Where…”

  His face shifted with an unbearable pity that told her everything she needed to know. Her chest tightened as the tears threatened her burning eyes. She couldn’t accept the truth. Twisting her head in disagreement, she silently prayed for him to be wrong. He had to be wrong.

  “No.”

  “She’s gone, Mykaela.”

  Mykaela? How did he know my name?

  She struggled to stand, but every muscle in her body worked against her, forcing her back on the sandy beach. Finally managing to keep her balance, she ran toward the water, even though it felt like fifty-pound weights clung tightly around her ankl
es.

  Giant waves lapped toward the sand, one breaker after another crashed against the earth, like an army marching forward. The water rolled on as far as her eyes could see. So turbulent, so ruthless, so mean… and Charity was in the killer midst of it all. Alone.

  She ran into the ocean, but the forceful waves swept around her, knocking her into the arms of the boy who rescued her. Arms wrapped tightly around her as she felt her body press tightly against his chest.

  “Charity! Charity!” she screamed.

  With one last desperate attempt to save her lifelong friend, she fought fiercely against the strong hold. They were practically sisters, and now she was gone.

  “Let me go.” Sobbing, she shoved and pushed at his arms, determined to break away from him. “I have to get her.”

  He remained silent as his arms constricted around her, much like a Python squeezing its prey. Twisting and wrestling, it took more effort than she imagined breaking free from his hold, a futile attempt on her behalf. It didn’t take long before exhaustion kicked in and she collapsed into handsome stranger’s arms.

  When she woke again, the sun sparkled just a little brighter than before. Apparently, the time hadn’t gone by as long as she thought. Her head felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and her eyes were raw from the abrasive saltwater. She searched for the guy who’d saved her, but he was nowhere in sight.

  Where did he go? He didn’t even call for help? Maybe he did. Maybe help is on the way.

  A mix of wet and dry sand slid and caved under her hands as she lifted her sore, aching body to a sitting position. Staring out at the ocean, she remembered the look of terror on her friend’s face right before the water grabbed them. Squeezing her eyes shut didn’t ward off the images of Charity’s lifeless body, or the memory of watching her die so violently. The event would never leave, and Mykaela knew it. Along with the guilt, the memory etched itself in her mind forever. The pain fought past the denial and reasoning her mind tried. Rendered helpless, she buried her face in her trembling hands and started to cry.

  She jumped to her feet. If help was coming, she needed to leave. There was no way she could tell anybody what really happened or how they ended up in the water. What was she supposed to say? That the water grabbed them with hands? Nobody would ever believe her story. They would lock her in a mental institution; she needed to leave. She took one last look at the water, her heart yearning for Charity.

  Mykaela followed the path they took to the beach, diving into the woods, winding around trees and stumbling over rocks and roots. She tripped and landed face down in the dirt. Freely her tears flowed once again. Managing to shove the fear and pain aside, she pushed herself up and continued toward home.

  When she made it home, she was sure her mother was awake and going about the chores at the Seaside Inn.

  The Inn remained in her family forever, handed down the line from one generation to the next. Her mother was probably preparing breakfast in the kitchen, so Mykaela tiptoed onto the wraparound porch and stopped by the main entrance.

  Taking a deep breath, she contemplated how to reach her bedroom on the third floor without leaving a trail of sand and dirt behind. She dusted off the seat of her jeans and then lifted each foot, carefully checking for dirt. Then she realized she was only wearing one sneaker.

  Charity bought her those shoes as a birthday present, after seeing Mykaela eye the blue and pink plaid-patterned Chuck Taylor imitations in a magazine. The thought of losing one shoe staggered her. Exhausted and emotionally distraught, she leaned against the porch rail, fighting back the urge to cry. After a moment, she pulled off the remaining sneaker, followed by the sock. Shoving the sock into the sneaker, she set it aside to recheck the situation with the dirty feet again. Carefully she rolled up the cuffs of her jeans and checked her feet again, making sure they were clean. Enduring a query from her mother, as to why she was wet and covered with sand, was in fact, the last thing she wanted to do. Such an inquisition would bring about more questions like how she ended up in the ocean in the first place.

  Easing the front door open, she slipped inside, carefully holding the door to close it quietly behind her. The foyer opened into a vast lobby with a tall ceiling, and she was relieved to find the check-in desk, straight ahead, vacant. On her right, the dining room sat empty, and to her left, the closed parlor doors. She padded silently toward the steps and up the spiral staircase, passing the guest rooms located on second floor.

  Once on the third floor, she sprinted into a run toward her bedroom. Bursting into the room, she turned quickly to lock the door behind her in an attempt to shield her from any unwanted visitors. At this point, anyone including her mother would be an unwelcomed visitor.

  Mykaela’s entire body trembled and shook as she dreaded the thought of being near water again, but she needed a shower. The shower would do more than cleanse the evidence from the horrid events, but give her a moment to soothe her torn nerves.

  She stuffed the shoe deep inside her closet and grabbed another outfit. Locking herself in the bathroom, she peeled off her clothes and turned on the shower. As each drop of water hit her skin, she remembered how her body begged for air.

  Images of Charity filled her mind, thoughts of how the tide flung her like a lifeless ragdoll. She relived the dreadful fall down into the water. Then something else came to her, a flicker of a memory. The boy, his arms wrapped around her as he dragged her from the water to the beach. She felt him push on her chest, felt a zap reviving her, banishing the water from her lungs. His faraway words echoed in her ears. “She’s gone, Mykaela.”

  How did he know her name?

  ***

  The last thing Mykaela wanted to do was work. What she really wanted to do was have a good cry and then sleep. It took more than a little effort to force the horrific event’s images from her mind. Still, work called, and it was her duty to manage all the tasks of changing the linens, vacuuming the carpets and replace the towels.

  She shouldn’t have left without calling the police, the coast guard or at least somebody. Guilt plunged it’s claws deeper into her heart, grinding down the painful memory of Charity’s death. Deep down, Mykaela knew her friend was gone, it was a fact she simply didn’t want to accept. Who was this stranger who clearly identified her friend’s death? Who was he…anyway?

  Closing her eyes tightly, didn’t ward off the images of Charity’s lifeless body, or the memory of watching her die so violently. The event would never leave, and Mykaela knew it. Along with the guilt, the memory etched itself in her mind forever.

  “Mykaela.”

  Startled, she whipped around dropping the little bottles of shampoo in her hands.

  Her mother stood in the doorway with one hand resting on the frame. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Mykaela said. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

  “Oh.” Blanche took a step over the threshold. “Have you heard from Charity? She was supposed to be here by now.”

  Her heart hammered, drumming loudly in her ears. Perhaps even her mother heard the loud sound as well. The thought of spilling everything, even the part where she snuck out to meet Charity for that stupid séance made her ill. She wondered how her mother would take the news about hearing that eerie and haunting song.

  “Not since yesterday.”

  “Did she have plans and forget to tell me?”

  Mykaela busied herself with arranging the shampoos and conditioners in the basket on the sink. “She didn’t mention any. Maybe she’s sick.”

  “It’s not like her not to call in.” Blanche looked worried. “Maybe I’ll call her mother.”

  Her heart took a running leap into her throat, but she managed to nod. “Yeah, check on her for me, will you?”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.” Blanche patted Mykaela’s shoulder before turning to leave.

  Once alone, she released the unexpected breath that held tight in her chest. Gripping tightly to the sink, she attempted to steady the trembling in her hands and arms
.

  She didn’t expect the lie to sound so convincing. Hell. That’s exactly where she was going, straight to the bottomless pits of hell for being such a good liar.

  Leaving the bedroom, she locked the door behind her.

  An hour later, she’d finished cleaning the last room. Still exhausted, she pushed the cart down to the closet at the end of the hall when Blanche topped the steps. Mykaela’s heart dropped when she noticed Blanche’s face contorted with worry. “Honey.” She sighed and moved forward a couple of steps. “Charity wasn’t in her room this morning. Have you seen her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her mother went to wake her up when I called,” Blanche said. “She wasn’t in her room. Her bed was still made. Do you know anything about this?”

  Mykaela shook her head, feeling nauseous.

  She held her arm out. “Come on downstairs—her mother is getting a search party together.”

  “So soon?” Mykaela asked.

  “That’s what I said.” Blanche wrapped her arm around Mykaela’s shoulder and squeezed tight as they headed down the steps. “Even Brad doesn’t know where she is. Laura swears it’s not like Charity to leave and not tell her. To be honest, I think Sheriff Baxter is doing it as a favor to ease Laura’s mind. With Meagan’s recent drowning, the whole town is on edge.”

  She followed her mother downstairs, through the lobby and dining room, into the kitchen. She was surprised to see Charity’s mother at the table talking to the sheriff along with two deputies—his son Brad and Mykaela’s brother Jared. They’d all gotten there so fast. It seemed like only minutes ago Blanche asked Mykaela why Charity was late for work.

  Charity’s mother rested her elbows on the table, her head buried in her hands. Although the cries were soft, she still trembled with each tear that fell.